We've Got Spirit
by smellslikechai
Summary: PWP. Kurt's head of the Cheerios, Blaine's the resident delinquent. When Kurt's had a badday, Blaine just happens to be around for some stress-relief.


Kurt's just starting his customary post-show moisturizing routine when the last Cheerios leave the change room, gossiping inanely about something. Kurt frowns at himself in the mirror; he messed up the basket toss X-out during the half-time show. It was barely noticeable, surely no one in the stands would have seen, but he felt Coach Sylvester's glare as they hopped off the field in a flurry of exhausted smiles and pom poms, and he knows he'll suffer her wrath at tomorrow's practice. He's hanging precariously on to the title of Head Cheerio, he can see it in the hunger in Santana's eyes whenever he misses a step. She's been scheming with the Coach, wrapping her around her perfectly manicured finger, trying to take his well deserved position. The position he fought tooth and nail to land.

A loud clatter pulls him out of his thoughts, and he realizes he's tossed his toner across the room. With a grumble he walks over to it, stooping to pick it back up.

"No need to put on a show for my benefit."

Kurt whirls around, facing the intruder.

"What are you doing here, Anderson?" Kurt asks dryly, heading back to the sink without a second glance. "This is the girl's change room."

To his chagrin, Blaine follows him and leans up against the sink next to him, crossing his arms. Kurt sighs, focusing all his energy on ignoring the ever present burden beside him.

Blaine cocks his head at the boy. "Well then, I guess I could ask you the same question." He doesn't wait for a reply before continuing. "I've always loved the way your ass looks in those Cheerios pants."

Kurt doesn't react, just applies his moisturizer with far too much pressure to be good for his skin.

"Oh, so you're giving me the silent treatment, are you?" He steps in close, much too close, and Kurt can smell the stale cigarettes and peppermint gum lingering on Blaine's breath. "That's ok. I have ways of getting a sound out of you." His slips his hand under Kurt's shirt, looking momentarily surprised that Kurt hasn't tried shoving him off, then relaxes the touch, letting his fingers sprawl against his tight stomach.

Kurt's surprised, too. He shouldn't be letting Blaine do this. He's been fighting his lecherous come ons for months, but now he thinks he needs this. He needs to feel validated. Wanted. Even though what he has with Blaine - whatever the fuck this is- certainly doesn't count as affection, it's enough.

He leans back, grinding his ass into Blaine's erection and watching his face distort with pleasure through the mirror.

"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine spins him around and kisses him urgently, pressing into him so hard that Kurt's bent backwards over the sink, his head nearly hitting the mirror. Kurt responds equally, pushing his tongue past Blaine's lips and tasting his mouth. Blaine runs his tongue against Kurt's palate, his tongue ring clacking playfully against his teeth. Kurt's always thought of the piercing as tacky, but today it's presenting interesting new opportunities…

Blaine tears off his shirt, throwing it to the ground and doing the same for Kurt. Kurt moans and throws his head back when Blaine starts sucking on Kurt's neck, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin then licking over the wound. One of Kurt's hands flies up to Blaine's head, weaving his fingers into his thick hair and tugging at the mess of curls, while the other snakes lower, grabbing his ass and pulling him in closer so he could move his hips just - _there. _They both groan into the sensation of their cocks rubbing together, so good but frustratingly separated by layers of clothing.

"Tell me something, Kurt." Blaine growls into his ear, "You ever been fucked so hard you couldn't walk for a week? You ever come so hard you forgot you own name?"

Kurt moans, embarrassingly loud and desperate, and shakes his head. He's not a blushing virgin by any meaning, but his experience comes from drunken trysts with closeted jocks; messy and disappointing and usually ending in confused tears.

Blaine smirks and sinks down to his knees, running his mouth along Kurt's covered erection. When Kurt groans impatiently, he slips his fingers under the waistband of his uniform pants, running them teasingly over the top of his underwear before tugging them both down in one go.

There's a moment where Blaine just stares at the hard cock in front of him, admiring the red flush and beads of precome gathering at the tip, but Kurt ends it when he not so subtly guides Blaine's head forward.

"Come on," Kurt whines, cutting off with a gasp when Blaine finally wraps his lips around his cock. He takes him deep, almost all the way down then backs off with a quick lick to the head. He sucks the tip back in, swirling his tongue around him as his tongue ring runs deliciously around the ridge of his shaft.

Blaine looks up at Kurt, eyes shiningly devilishly. "This good?" He asks cockily, because he know,_ he fucking knows_ what he's doing to him right now. "Turn around."

Kurt doesn't hesitate. He grasps the sides of the sink and leans over, spreading his legs as far as he can with his pants still puddled around his ankles.

"Do you have any-" Kurt's question is answered for him when he hears the familiar click of a cap closing. He looks back to see Blaine rubbing lube over his fingers, a small bottle next to him.

"You carry that on you at all times?" Kurt asks, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, well," Blaine brings a finger up, circling it lightly around Kurt's hole. "You never know when you're going to have a hot cheerleader bent over for you." With that, he pushes in, slowly moving past the tight ring of muscles. When he's knuckle deep he pauses, letting Kurt adjust to the intrusion. "Let me know when-"

"Move," Kurt orders, pushing back against Blaine's fingers.

Blaine slides his finger back until he's nearly out, then pushes back in, harder and faster each time. He adds a second finger, then a third.

"Just fuck me, already!" Kurt calls out, his hips moving in time with each thrust from Blaine.

Blaine stills his hand. "What was that?"

"Fuck me," Kurt repeats, looking over his shoulder. "Fill me with your cock and fuck me like I've never been fucked before."

"Fuck," is all Blaine's able to say in reply. He stands upright and quickly shucks his pants, then grabs Kurt's hips and pulls him away from the sink. "Not here," he says when Kurt protests, and leads him to the adjoining wall. There's a smile of understanding between them, and Kurt steps fully out of his pants. "Condom?" He asks, and Blaine passes the small square packet to him. Kurt hastily rips it open and rolls it over Blaine's cock, then pours on the lube, teasingly stroking it over his length.

"Ready?"

Kurt nods and lifts his leg over Blaine's waist. Blaine easily hoists him up the rest of the way, so both of Kurt's legs are wrapped around him, his back resting against the wall.

When he's sure Kurt's supported well enough, Blaine guides his cock to Kurt's asshole, then thrusts in.

Kurt's head hits the wall. Blaine's bigger than what he's used to, and the stretch is painful, but it's so, so good. It doesn't take long before he's relaxed around his cock and grinding his hips down.

Blaine takes the hint and fucks into him faster, harder, ruthless. Kurt's back slams into the tiles with each thrust and his spine's going numb already, but Blaine's hitting Kurt's prostate on each pass and nothing else registers.

"C-close," Kurt mumbles, tripping over his words.

Blaine reaches between their sweat covered bodies and grabs Kurt's cock in his hand, jerking him in time with his thrusts. "Let me see it," he whispers heavy into Kurt's ear. "Let me see you come."

One, two more thrusts before Kurt's seeing stars and spilling over them, come splattering onto their chests and Blaine's hand. Blaine follows suite, leaning forward and grunting loudly as his orgasm takes over and he's sinking slowly to the ground.

The cold floor on his hot body feels like heaven to Kurt, but the thought of the dirt and God knows what else could be down here has him bolting upright. "I think I need another shower," he says, nudging Blaine. "And I know for a fact there's room for two in those stalls."

Blaine sits up and reaches for his pants. "I don't think so," he says with a dark laugh. "I never fuck the same guy twice. I'm sure you've heard the rumour."

Kurt watches him dress in silence, a knowing smirk on his lips. As Blaine's walking away, Kurt calls out.

"Just so you know, I have another Cheerios practice. Show up again this time tomorrow and I'll show you exactly how flexible I am."

Blaine pauses for a fraction of a second but continues walking. Kurt hears the locker room door swing shut, and he falls back onto the floor, germs be damned, and grins.

Blaine'll be back tomorrow.


End file.
